


Of Coke Bottles & Dust

by excessnight



Series: Three Little Birds [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Alcoholism, Bullying, Crossdresser!Spock, Death, Depression, Eating Disorder, Insecurity, M/M, McSpirk - Freeform, Mental Illness, Murder, Nerd!Jim, PTSD, Punk!Bones, Rape, Relapse, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempts, mckirk - Freeform, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:16:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2227035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excessnight/pseuds/excessnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through old books and dreams, little James Tiberius Kirk thought he could be great, just as his father. But what he thought turned out to be a lie and self-loathing set in like a rapid fire eating away at his heart and soul. Until he met his heart, and shortly after, his soul.</p><p>Rated Mature for several serious mentions. Please read with caution as mental illness is mentioned along with abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Coke Bottles & Dust

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows Jim Kirk and his point of view on his issues. It is the second part of the Three Little Birds trilogy but can be read in any order. For those of you who read Blossoming Flowers or even A Place that Heels, I will state the same thing. Please read with extreme caution. If you are not mentally or emotionally in a safe place do yourself a favor and do not read this.
> 
> Tread with extreme caution

** Of Coke Bottles & Dust**

* * *

  _"You're his son, aren't you?"_

_"You know what, you're never gonna amount to anything your dad ever did!"_

_"George Kirk's boy, eh? You're father was a great man."_

 

From his birth till his death, Jim would live in the shadow of his father. He knew it. Didn't need to be told twice about it. He was who he was and he had accepted that a long time ago and that was that. But he wanted to be so much more. Wanted to show the world that he wasn't a name. That he just wasn't his father or a product of his father. He never wanted that. But of course, that wasn't the case. And he would forever be just a shadow that never saw the light. And he accepted that. Accepted his worth. Just as the people and his life had reminded him.

 

Jim had fallen in love with books. From a young age, he loved books and did whatever he could to get his hands on the ancient things. It was first small things like diaries written by people hundred of years ago. Then he found a small shop that sold old books for a small price. Then it was recipes. Books that mapped the stars. Books on adult romance. All sorts of books. Fiction, non-fiction. Everything he could find he read and he read and he read. And late at night he put on his glasses, the ones he had as a spare if he ever lost his contacts, and he would draw out new recipes. Fresh from his head. He would figure out how much baking powder to add for the dough to rise, how much sugar he needed for the right amount of sweetest. He loved food and recipes and he just adored books. Poor little Jim was only 8 and soon he'd learn to hate it all.

Until he met Bones, his life was a cluster fuck of problems. From his brother, to bullies, to his uncle and his mother. From Tarsus and of course to Andrew.  It was always hell. He was 10 when his brother left home. Said he was done with all of Frank's shit. That he couldn't be a Kirk anymore. Jim didn't blame him, of course. How could he blame him? Frank was a Kirk. And all Kirks were fucked up if they were younger than George.

 

_"Jimmy, you're smart, you gotta show that to Mom. She won't keep thinking of Dad when she sees you."_

_"Bullies again? Jim, fight back!"_

_"Why are you collect those things? You could sell em and get out of this place, ya know?"_

 

After he drove the car off the quarry, his mother thought it a good idea to get him off planet. So she sent him to the newly colonized Tarsus IV.  _A great Summer Camp!_  The flyers seemed believable enough and Jim wanted anything to get away from Frank. To get away from him when he lashed out. He still had bruises on his neck where the man tried to choke him. He made sure his mother never saw them. Frank was always too drunk to remember.

He was 13 when he finally went to Tarsus IV. His mom had said 10 was just a bit too young and he'd have to wait a few years. But Tarsus was everything what they had said and better. How great a place it was. Warm and welcoming and all Jim ever told his mother about was how much fun he was having. How he wanted to stay there year round and go to school there. He almost convinced his mother, too. Almost. But then the crops started dying. Everything was poisonous to eat. Nothing was safe and suddenly, people were becoming sick. And 13 year old Jim, bookworm Jim, was terrified. He was used to Frank's abuse, both the physical outbursts and the verbal and emotional and mental he spewed out on a daily basis. He was used to all that, that wasn't new. He was used to bullies beating up on him for being a little smaller than most. For being a hero's son, for liking books and instead of playing with toy phasers reading behind the school. Jim was used to that. What he wasn't used to was hunger.

 

And he became so very hungry.

And suddenly he felt guilty. He hated his books. He hated his recipes. He hated all of it because they were food and even the thought of food wasn't right. There were people around him, important people with important lives with important hearts that needed that food. Governor Kodos thought so too. But who Jim thought was important and who Kodos thought were important were too different things. Two very different things.

Jim was 13 when he saw his first body. When he saw his first murder. When he heard the screams of the dying and the hungry. He was 13 when he smelled the burning flesh of the 4,000 people who were so important that had to die. No, they didn't have to die. Jim kept reminding himself that he could always die to keep them alive, there was enough food if they divided it all evenly. And he could cook. He could make recipes that allowed for everyone to have enough food until help arrived. He could finally be the hero they wanted him to be.

But who was he kidding? He was just a kid. He couldn't save jack shit and there was no way anyone was going to listen to him. And so he stood by and he watched. He watched as people died. From hunger, from disease. He stared at it all and felt completely numb. And any time any of Kodos' personal soldiers offered him food he'd shovel it down so quickly that he'd grow sick to his stomach and vomit it all up. This was not something he was supposed to have and his body knew that.

 

He was still 13 when his mother met with him again. He was admitted into the hospital and hours upon hours of therapy. He told them he was fine, he was okay. They believed him. Eventually they let him go back to his regular life, but if only Jim knew he was so very far from ever being fine again, no matter how much he smiled.

Jim was a freshman in high school, only 14, when he could barely keep his weight at 130. He would eat and vomit all his food up. It wasn't on purpose, it was a defense habit. He got rid of all the food. Nothing tasted good. He would go days and days without food. Then he'd eat. He'd eat like there was nothing left for him. And the process would start all over again until Jim was laying in a bed sweating out a horrible cold that he had only brought upon himself.

Eventually he stabled himself enough. But it was only with the help of Andrew. Finally, Jim thought he was in a safe place. He had an awesome boyfriend and he was doing alright in school. He didn't have any run-ins with the law since his mishap with the car. He was doing good. He was happy and he wasn't living in the shadow of his father anymore. He spent the night more often then not at Andrew's, away from Frank's drunken rages that came more and more often. He was seeing something bright for the first time. He could eat without feeling like a fool and he could sleep without waking up with nightmares. He was doing better and he was in love and everything seemed good.

Until Andrew asked Jim to have sex. And of course, Jim was ready, more than ready. He was excited and happy and cheerful but when Andrew's pants came off and he saw just what was going up his ass, he didn't want sex anymore. He was scared, terrified. This boy - no man - would have power over him. He would be in charge of him and Jim didn't want that. Frank had done that most of his life and he didn't want that. He was so scared and he said no.

"What? You can't just say no. You already said 'yes'," he said back and then everything went down from there. Jim remembered trying to fight back but he was weak. All those years being smaller and weaker and reading. Those years not eating right or taking care of himself. He was just weak against Andrew. And he pushed him down. And he held his wrists. And God it was the most horrible thing Jim had ever experienced. Suddenly he didn't feel real anymore. He was nothing. More than nothing he was a doll. He felt every thrust. Every pump. And the sickening feeling of Andrew getting his kicks off on it. But what disgusted Jim even more was that his body reacted. That he was cumming when he could feel the liquid pouring into his ass. That he liked the feeling of hot, desperate hands on his body. His disgusting, horrible body.

"See? You liked that," and he lay there as Andrew kissed at his neck before pulling out and leaving Jim on the floor, spilling out seed and blood. And when he was gone, Jim grabbed his shit, pulled on his boxers, and ran. He ran and ran and ran and ran. And then he did something he never thought he would do since the car. He broke into a nearby closed store. Went straight to the back of the store, overrode the lock on the alcohol fridge and grabbed out a 24 pack before running back out. And then he started again.

When the cops found him he had only his boxers on, his feet were bleeding, he was drunk as a skunk and he wouldn't stop crying. They hauled him off to sit in jail for a night. And that's when it would all begin.

 

Jim never spoke about that night to any one. He put away his books, put away his recipes, and started a long list of criminal acts that would haunt him for life. He drank until he couldn't see straight. Stole cars, stole booze, got in bar fights. He ended up dropping out of school. He slept with anyone he could, just to fill his need of something important. He was so worthless, oh so worthless. He would fall asleep on the streets, drunk as could be way before he should have ever been, and not giving a damn. He didn't care. He hated himself, Frank hated him, his mom, Sam. The world hated Jim Kirk.

When Jim was 19 he met Leonard McCoy. The beautiful man who he knew would save his life. But then he got to know him more and he knew. Knew that Bones, that's what he had come to call him, was nothing more but a broken puzzle. And he loved him. He fell so in love with him that he wasn't sure he could even keep doing the things he was doing. By that time he had moved out of Frank's house. He was on his own, doing his own thing. Trying to keep himself going through drunken nights and binges. He still slept around and treated himself like shit, but he stopped stealing. He promised himself that since meeting Bones he'd stop. And he had. Bones was wonderful. To a point.

When Jim was 20, Bones' ex had sent him into the hospital. He hadn't known much about Bones' at that point but he knew. Bones was scarred. And Bones needed him. So he threw away everything he had known. He became the Jim from ten years ago. He had sat through all of Bones' hardest nights and whispered stupid information into his ear. Told him how important he was. How much he loved him. That they had so many recipes to try and make. There was so much they had to do and dammit he better not die on him.

It wasn't until Jim was 22 when he relapsed back to his old ways. He didn't eat for a week. Didn't talk much. Stop sputtering random facts and he saw how much it upset Bones. He saw what it did to him. But he didn't care, he hated himself. He drank himself until the point where Bones had to preform surgery to get him stabilized. And shortly after he met Spock. When he met Spock the world changed. Spock was the most beautiful, dazzling, and interesting creature he had ever met. And he loved him. Absolutely loved him. Despite the fact that Spock was a little damaged too, he loved him just as much as Bones. But he wanted to love Spock, wanted to really love Spock. And so he went for it. He asked Spock out and things went well. They connected. He was happy. So very happy. Living in a bubble that was eventually going to pop. And it did. It popped in the form of Bones.

Bones relapsed and Jim realized that his happiness was nothing. He was nothing. Dammit, how could he forget that for a second? He was nothing and he had left Bones. Bones, precious Bones, who needed Jim more than anything. He apologized over and over again as he cleaned every little cut that he could find on Bones' body. He took care of him, cleaned them as best as he could, suggesting they find new tattoos to cover those nasty things. Then he started bringing Spock around more often and he watched as his boyfriend and his best friend started to fall in love with each other. How they  _needed_ each other more than anything and he was so happy. He needed Spock and Bones and he needed them as one not as two.

 

Everything was fine, just dandy. He forgot about Andrew. He could forget about Tarsus. He ate a little more than he normally did. He could heal a little bit more than he was used to. Until he was cut open. When he was 23 Bones relapsed again. And then Spock shortly after him. He tried to heal Bones and then went to healing Spock, he was fighting to keep his head above water, but he did it for them. For Spock, who he'd hold close at night, wrap his arms around him, and send as much love as he possibly could through their bond. But he never left them. He promised himself late at night that he would never leave them alone. And they never left him. When he had a bad relapse, they took care of him. Spock made sure he felt as much love as possible, that he was made to feel important and treasured. And if they had sex he made sure that it wasn't Jim giving and pleasing him, but that he was slowly showing him all the love he could.  And Bones would help him bake in the middle of the night and help divide up his food so that it wouldn't seem like Jim was eating so much, but was healthy and ate just enough. Jim felt he could do it. Felt he could live again and be happy.

But things went downhill faster than he could ever imagine. Suddenly he was determined to take the Kobayashi Maru, and he was failing. He was getting upset and he didn't know why. He spent more time reading and trying to figure out how to beat the damn thing. Then he asked Bones to be with him on his third time. And then he was being called a cheater, and he was grounded, and then everything cascaded in front of him. Spock lost his planet. And mother. And because of what his alternate older self told him, Jim had upset him. Scarred him. Hurt him so bad and suddenly he was remembering just how worthless he was. He hated himself. But he loved Spock and Bones and he was doing such horrible things. And then Spock forgave him. He  _forgave_ him. They were saving Earth and everything was fine.

But it wasn't. Because when they got home, Spock relapsed over and over. He'd have nightmares. He'd scream in the middle of the night. Cry. He was a wreck, he felt numb and it hurt and he couldn't get a grip of where he was and suddenly Jim was back on Tarsus and he had to hold it all together. So he'd whisper silly things, dumb information Spock probably already knew, trying to calm him down. He'd do anything to make Spock happy, do anything in his power to keep his love happy. He'd do anything to keep Bones' happy too but Bones' seemed to be helping instead of needing help. And Jim loved him.

 

The next year or so was a blur to Jim. But he realized something. He wasn't useless or worthless. He meant so much to Bones and Spock and they meant so much to him. A lot had happened, almost seeing them die, dying himself, then coming back and having to deal with that. He had horrible nightmares. Not eating and throwing up when he tried to. Being a captain of a starship, dealing with the death of Pike. All of it was too much for him. But he knew he had two things. He had Bones and Spock, that was one thing, they always came as one. Bones was his heart and Spock was his soul. And the second thing was he had his stupid love for his ancient books that had long since started to collect dust in his absence.


End file.
